


I Can Fix That

by emphasisonem



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Sexual Content, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-11 21:35:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7071328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emphasisonem/pseuds/emphasisonem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Well, your sink's all fixed,” Bucky grins. “Should be anyway.” He hops up, turning the knobs and nods as the water flows again. </p><p>“Thanks,” Steve says, and he really does sound grateful.</p><p>“Not a problem. It’s what I’m here for,” Bucky replies. “And, uh, anytime you’d like to know all I appreciate in a man, feel free to give the maintenance number a call.”</p><p>Steve stares at him dumbfounded, and Bucky is trying to figure out how he could have read this situation so wrong when Steve says, “What about right now?”</p><p>  <i>Oh, holy shit, this might actually be happening.</i></p><p>
  <b>In which Steve's sink stops working and the maintenance man turns out to be skilled in more ways than one.</b>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Kitchen Sink

**Author's Note:**

> I'm pretty sure this is a multi-chapter story, though I think this could stand on its own as a oneshot. We'll see what my brain cooks up. I've read a lot of stories that get into the smut early and employ it often, so I wanted to give that a shot. Hope you like it!

Steve’s only been living in his new apartment for a few weeks when the kitchen sink goes.

He’s washing dishes on a Saturday afternoon in May when the thing just up and dies. The water refuses to flow no matter how many times Steve turns the faucet on and off. He knows it’s futile, twisting the knobs back and forth, but he’s not sure what else to do. He could get the simple toolkit Sam gave him when he got the place, but Steve’s a little on the accident prone side. The last thing he needs is to make this situation worse by flooding his own apartment.

Steve steps away from the sink and begins rummaging through a drawer where he keeps important papers, searching for the landlord’s number. There has to be something he can do, Steve thinks. There’s no answer when Steve calls the maintenance number listed on the sheet of phone numbers he was given when he moved in, so he just leaves a message and heads to the bathroom to make sure the water’s still running. It is. He shrugs and decides he might as well watch the ballgame while he’s waiting to hear back.

About 30 minutes later, there’s a knock on Steve’s door. He opens it, eyes widening at the man standing before him. He’s tall and broad-shouldered. His dark hair is long and pulled back from his sharp features, accentuating beautiful cheekbones and eyes like thunderclouds. A black tank top clings to his slim, muscular frame and his jeans hang low on his hips. Steve’s eyes linger briefly on the scar tissue on the his upper arm, but the man’s gray eyes are far more intriguing.

_Well, shit._

Steve’s so transfixed he doesn’t register the man has spoken to him for a couple of moments. After an awkward beat, Steve bleats, “What?”

“I said, are you Steve Rogers?” the brunet is smiling up at him, clearly amused by this space cadet routine he’s got going.

“Sorry, I just-” Steve takes a breath and smiles. “Yeah, I’m Steve. How can I help you?”

“You can show me to the sink, pal,” the other man grins, holding up a battered toolbox. “I’m your maintenance man. Bucky Barnes.”

“Oh!” Steve exclaims. “Oh, yeah, right over here. Hey, thanks for getting over here so fast.”

“Sure thing,” Bucky grins and wow, that is one of the nicest smiles Steve thinks he’s ever seen.

 

* * *

 

Of _course_ one of Clint’s tenants is having sink issues on a Saturday afternoon.

Bucky had been anticipating a quiet afternoon sitting in the maintenance office, whiling away the hours watching a baseball game and reading. No such luck, he sees, noting the blinking red light on the phone that indicates a message. He sighs as he listens.

_“Uh, hi, this is Steve Rogers in Unit 129. I’m sorry to call on a Saturday, but it looks like my sink just sort of… died? I was doin’ dishes and the water just stopped. It doesn’t seem like anything else is affected; just the sink. But, uh, it’d be nice to get that fixed as soon as possible. Thanks.”_

Bucky grunts as he stands. He supposes he oughta just get this out of the way so that he can get on with his quiet afternoon. He grabs his toolbox and heads out the door and over to Rogers’s building.

When Bucky knocks on the door, he’s not really sure what he’s expecting, but it’s certainly not a 6’2” blond who could probably bench-press Bucky if he wanted to. The guy’s _stacked_ and Bucky briefly wonders what it’d be like to be held in those strong arms.

He shakes the thought. _Be a fucking professional for five minutes, Barnes. Now is not the time._

“You Steve Rogers?” he asks, and is sort of surprised when the man just stares at him. His rosy lips are parted slightly, and his tongue darts out for a moment. Bucky wonders if maybe he’s not the only one who’s impressed. The thought is a satisfying one, and Bucky smirks.

After a beat or two, the man seems to realize he’s been addressed.

“What?”

“I said,” Bucky begins, unable to keep the smile off his face. “Are you Steve Rogers?”

“Sorry, I just-” the man inhales, seeming to collect himself, and smiles. “Yeah, I’m Steve. How can I help you?”

That smile _does things_ to Bucky, but god damn it, he is going to make it through fixing this sink without hitting on a tenant who could very well be straight anyway.

“You can show me to the sink, pal,” Bucky grins, holding up his old toolbox to let Steve know why he’s at the door. “I’m your maintenance man. Bucky Barnes.”

“Oh!” Steve exclaims. “Oh, yeah, right over here. Hey, thanks for getting out here so fast.”

“Sure thing,” Bucky grins. Steve leads the way and Bucky immediately sets to work.

“So, water just stopped runnin’?” Bucky asks, twisting the knobs that control the faucet left and right, then squatting to look at the plumbing below. He hears a sharp intake of breath behind him, and smirks. He’s starting to think maybe this guy really _does_ appreciate his form. Maybe this afternoon’s not gonna be a total wash.

“Uh, yeah,” Steve stammers out behind him. “I was just washin’ some dishes, water was runnin’ fine and then it just. Stopped.”

“All right, then,” Bucky says rising. “I’ll be right back. Gonna check in with a few of your neighbors, make sure it isn’t a building-wide problem. Don’t go anywhere, all right?”

Bucky savors the look of surprise on Steve’s face when he winks, the blond’s throat bobbing in a swallow as he nods.

 

* * *

 

 _He’s flirting with me_ , Steve thinks as he watches Bucky’s form retreat from his doorway. His mind is reeling at that. Steve’s not used to guys like Bucky flirting with him. He’s used to people flirting with him. He’s not an idiot; he knows he’s attractive. But guys like Bucky? The ones who drip with sex appeal and confidence? The ones who probably look incredible in a leather jacket or a tux, beautiful whether cleaned up nice or covered in engine grease? They’re usually more than a little bit bored by the clean-cut blond.

Bucky, on the other hand, looks intrigued. Steve resolves to try not to act like a complete nerd and ruin his chances.

He smiles as Bucky comes back through the front door, closing it behind him. “So what’s the verdict?”

“Just you, pal,” Bucky grins. “I think I know what the problem is, so it shouldn’t take me all that long to fix.” Bucky eyes drift to the TV. “You mind turning the game up a little so I can listen while I work?”

“Not at all,” Steve says. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Will do.”

 

* * *

 

Steve must forget Bucky’s there after a while because listening to him watch the game is _way_ more entertaining than listening to the game itself. Steve is a vocal participant, talking at the players, the umpires, even the commentators.

“Aw, c’mon, that was a strike!” Steve exclaims. “Jesus _Christ_.”

Bucky snickers softly to himself, but he must not be as quiet as he thinks because Steve shouts, “Shit, sorry, Bucky. I, uh, I get a little worked up about baseball.”

“I can tell,” Bucky calls back, chuckling. “Doesn’t bother me any. You’re very entertaining. I appreciate passion in a man.”

“That all you appreciate in a man?” Steve calls back, and Bucky laughs so hard he needs to push himself out from under the sink for a moment because he’s afraid he’ll hit his head on something. Steve is peering over the back of the couch, flushed with embarrassment, a sheepish smile on his face.

“Sorry,” he smiles apologetically, and Bucky doesn’t think he’s ever found a guy as big as Steve so damn cute. “Mouth got away from me for a sec.”

“You’re funny, Rogers,” Bucky smiles. “I like that. Your mouth get away from you often?”

“More than I’d like,” Steve admits.

“Well, your sink’s all fixed,” Bucky grins. “Should be anyway.” He hops up, turning the knobs and nods as the water flows again.

“Thanks,” Steve says, and he really does sound grateful.

“Not a problem. It’s what I’m here for,” Bucky replies. “And, uh, anytime you’d like to know all I appreciate in a man, feel free to give the maintenance number a call.”

Steve stares at him dumbfounded, and Bucky is trying to figure out how he could have read this situation so _wrong_ when Steve says, “What about right now?”

_Oh, holy shit, this might actually be happening._

“You serious, Rogers?” Bucky asks with a smirk. “If you’re not tell me now because I really would like to fuck you.”

Bucky watches Steve’s blue eyes darken, and _fuck, this guy wants him_. Bucky moves forward slowly.

“C’mere,” he says softly, and then Steve’s heaving himself from the couch and moving toward him, and Bucky’s heart is triphammering in his chest.

Steve stops a foot or so from Bucky, looking the man up and down, and Bucky feels a shiver of anticipation race along his spine. He reaches out, gripping Steve’s hips, pulling the blond close. Steve inhales sharply as Bucky lays open-mouthed kisses along his neck, pausing to nip at the flesh as he goes.

Then Steve’s hands are tangling in Bucky’s hair, dragging him up to meet Steve’s lips, and _oh, yes, that’s perfect_.

 

* * *

 

Steve can’t stop the noises coming out of his mouth as Bucky’s kisses him deeply, pressing close to him and running hungry hands up Steve’s shirt. Steve whines in the back of his throat as Bucky pulls back, pinching at a hardened nipple.

“God, you’re hot, Steve,” Bucky breathes. “What do you want? Tell me what you like.”

Steve’s mouth opens and close, but he seems to have lost the ability to form words. Bucky barks out a laugh, running a gentle hand along Steve’s jawline.

“C’mon,” Bucky croons. “Take me to your bed and tell me what you want.”

Steve has no problem guiding Bucky to his room, and they fall into bed, Steve’s lips a desperate plea against Bucky’s, hips grinding into the brunet’s.

“Hey,” Bucky kisses him quickly, but pulls back. “Relax, Steve. Wanna make it good for you. You have to talk to me.”

“Just want you,” Steve gasps. _“Please.”_

Steve is palming Bucky through his jeans, and the brunet groans.

“Shit, Steve,” Bucky inhales sharply. “You’re an adult, right? You definitely look like you’re around my age, but I just.”

Steve exhales a shaky chuckle, “I’m 27, you’re good.”

“Little younger, but good,” Bucky grins. “I’m 31. D’ya top or bottom?”

“Both. Either.” Steve’s blue eyes are so dark now, and holy shit, the thought of fucking this man is appealing as hell, but so is the thought of being fucked _by him_. Bucky, like Steve, enjoys both.

“Buck?” Steve’s voice lilts upward. “You all right?”

“Just trying to figure out how to proceed here,” Bucky grins as he pulls Steve’s t-shirt over his head. “I get the feeling maybe you want me to fuck you. That maybe you haven’t gotten quite what you need from past partners,” Bucky’s lips trail along Steve’s jawline to his ear.

“That right?” Bucky whispers, biting gently on the lobe. “Does the golden boy in 129 need a little more spice in the bedroom?”

Steve shudders and nods. “ _Yes_.”

“Gonna wreck you, Rogers,” Bucky grins. “You’re not gonna wanna fuck anybody else when I’m through with you.”

“Prove it,” Steve gasps, and Bucky is pushing him back, pinning Steve’s wrists above his head as he nips gently down Steve’s neck.

“Oh, I will,” Bucky growls, biting down on Steve’s collarbone, eliciting a moan that sets Bucky’s nerves on fire. He cannot believe how badly he wants this man. If he could think more clearly, he thinks it might scare him how desperately he needs Steve right now, but the haze of lust is all that matters in this moment.

Bucky takes his time exploring the planes of Steve’s torso, taking pleasure in each gasp he draws from the blond. The lower Bucky goes, the more vocal Steve becomes, and he’s whimpering as Bucky slides the navy sweatpants he’s wearing down his hips. Bucky inhales sharply as Steve is laid bare before him.

“ _Jesus_ , Rogers,” Buck can hear his voice, thick with arousal, but it sounds far away. “It’s like you’re fucking photoshopped.”

And then he’s dipping down, taking Steve’s cock into his mouth and swallowing him down.

 

* * *

 

Steve’s trying not to be too loud, since he’s got neighbors. But Bucky’s mouth on his cock is probably one of the best things he’s ever felt, so it’s sort of hard to keep his volume in check. Steve hasn’t been with all that many people, men or women. Bucky’s already blowing every sexual experience he’s had right out of the water, and they haven’t even gotten to the main event yet.

Bucky bobs up and down, hands tight on Steve’s hips. Steve’s chest heaves with every breath and he feels like he might burst into flame he’s so aroused by the dark-haired man looking up at him. He reaches down and threads his fingers through Bucky’s long hair, tugging and surprising a moan out of Bucky.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Steve hisses as he feels the vibration of it against his shaft. “Fuck, please.” Bucky continues, hollowing his cheeks and sucking harder and Steve only lasts a few minutes more before he’s coming, and Bucky swallows down every drop.

Steve’s panting, but arousal courses through him, low and lazy as Bucky crawls back up toward the bed. Steve shudders when Bucky kisses him, the taste of himself on Bucky’s tongue strangely erotic.

“How’m I doin’ so far?” Bucky grins, running gentle fingers along Steve’s stomach.

“Not bad,” Steve quips with a smirk, and Bucky’s eyes darken at the unspoken challenge. He cups Steve’s face in his hands, kissing him slow and deep before he pulls away.

“Lube?” Bucky questions, and Steve’s heart is racing. “Condoms?”

“Bedside table, top drawer,” Steve replies, watching as Bucky fishes them out and sets them on the bed.

“Anybody ever open you up with their tongue, Rogers?” Bucky croons, tracing lazy patterns along Steve’s thighs.

“N-no,” Steve stammers out, and feels himself hardening again at the feral look in Bucky’s eyes.

“Well, I want to,” Bucky purrs, hands so close to where Steve needs them, but refusing to touch. “You good with that?”

“Yes,” Steve whines, and oh _god,_ the speed and strength with which Bucky pushes his hips upward and delves into his ass is literally breathtaking. The feeling of Bucky’s tongue circling, prodding gently is _incredible_ and Steve keens, his back arching.

He practically screams when Bucky breaches him, the brunet’s tongue fucking in and out of him with practiced ease. Bucky moans, and Steve shouts with the vibration of it because oh, _god_ , he might die. This might be how he goes.

Bucky takes his time, and Steve is a sweaty, whimpering, _hard_ mess when he pulls away.

“Gonna fuck you now, Steve,” Bucky breathes, peeling off his clothes, then coating his fingers with lube. “You ready?”

“God, _yes_ ,” Steve whines, and his hips buck as Bucky pushes two fingers into him, scissoring immediately. The familiar burn and stretch seems better with Bucky somehow, and Steve is already closer to orgasm than he’d like when Bucky finally rolls on the condom and slides into him.

 

* * *

 

Steve is a flushed, sweaty wreck below him, and Bucky is more than thrilled that he’s giving this gorgeous man what he needs as he thrusts forward. His pace is measured; he wants Steve _begging_ to come.

Steve is panting, hands fisted in his sheets, and Bucky is honestly astounded that this beautiful man wants him. Bucky doesn’t get to fuck guys like Steve. Good guys with perfect smiles don’t generally look twice at Bucky. At least, not for long.

Bucky’s going to enjoy the ride while it lasts.

He thrusts harder, angling his hips in search of Steve’s prostate and smirks when Steve cries out. _Bingo_. He fucks into Steve harder and the blond’s legs wrap around him, pulling Bucky deeper.

“Gettin’ close, Steve?” Bucky purrs, and Steve nods, gasping. “You wanna come, gorgeous? Beg me for it.”

Steve’s eyes widen, and he moans, “ _Please, Buck.”_

“God, you’re sexy,” Bucky growls. “Bet you can do better than that, baby, c’mon.”

“Bucky, please,” Steve sobs. “Need to come. Need you to make me come.”

“Whatever you want,” Bucky breathes, picking up the pace. The thrust of Steve’s hips is increasingly erratic, and Bucky can feel him spasming around his cock.

“Fuck, Steve, so good,” Bucky groans. “C’mon, baby, wanna see you come for me.”

Steve is keening low in his throat. His back arches on a particularly hard thrust and then he’s spilling onto his own chest, and Bucky moans his release at the sight.

Bucky pulls out and they lie together side by side, catching their breath. Bucky reaches out to brush Steve’s blond hair off his face, smiling.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he breathes, kissing Steve lightly. As he pulls away, Steve tangles a hand in his hair, tugging Bucky back in for a deeper kiss.

“I know this is backward,” Steve breathes. “But you should come hang out after your shift today. Have dinner. Because you’re really hot, and that was amazing, and you seem like someone I want to know.”

Bucky is speechless. If he doesn’t get to fuck guys like Steve often, he gets to _date_ them never. And it sounds like Steve is sort of asking him out.

“You, uh, you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Steve adds hurriedly, and Bucky responds immediately, afraid that if he takes too long, Steve will just be a perfect memory.

“I’d love to.”

 

* * *

Steve smiles when he hears the knock on his door around 8 p.m. that night. The burgers he’s making are sizzling on the stove and the roasted potatoes and asparagus are nearly done.

“Door’s open,” he calls, and his smile widens as Bucky walks through his door. The brunet’s hair is damp and he’s wearing fresh clothes. He looks tired, but glad to be in Steve’s apartment, especially once he gets a whiff of the air.

“I want you to know that if you’re cooking burgers right now, I might fall in love with you on the spot,” Bucky teases.

“Lucky me,” Steve grins as he flips each patty, watching the meat brown.

Bucky walks over to him, wrapping an arm around Steve’s waist and kissing him gently. “Hi,” Bucky says, and the shyness in his tone is unexpected and adorable. “Can I help?”

“Dishes are up there and silverware is in that drawer if you wanna set the table?” Steve replies. Bucky nods, and Steve nearly drops his spatula as Bucky leans up to grab plates, his t-shirt riding up to expose his taut stomach. Bucky catches the dumbfounded look on Steve’s face and smirks.

“Don’t burn the burgers, Steve.”

 

* * *

 

“So, are we friends now?” Steve asks nuzzling Bucky’s neck as they lounge on Steve’s couch watching mindless television. Bucky laughs at Steve’s earnest question.

“Yeah, I’d say we’re friends,” Bucky smiles. “Maybe even a little more than that.”

“Yeah?” Steve’s grin is bashful, and pink tinges his cheeks.

“Yeah, Steve,” Bucky chuckles. “I like you. I don’t wanna rush anything, but I think you’re hot as hell. Clearly we’re good together in bed. You’re funny. You’re nice. No obvious, dealbreaker-type flaws.”

“Yeah, you too,” Steve smiles.

“So, we’ll play it by ear, see what happens,” Bucky kisses Steve and is surprised when Steve immediately deepens the kiss, turning it into something filthy. He’s a quick study.

“Perfect,” Steve smirks as he pulls away. “First, I wanna see what happens when I suck your cock. On board with that plan?”

“Hell yes,” Bucky breathes reverently, and Steve laughs. Bucky’s looking forward to more of that. To more of all of this.

To more of Steve.

 


	2. The Stove

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Thank you,” Steve’s shoulders slump as his body relaxes. “I’m glad you were here because I wouldn’t have known what to do.”
> 
> “Well, you do now,” Bucky grins. “C’mon. We’re going out.”
> 
> “You can’t fix it?” Steve’s puzzled brow makes Bucky laugh.
> 
> “I’m not an electrician, Steve,” he chuckles. “I’d be liable to set the whole building on fire if I tried to fix your stove. I know a guy, I’ll give him a call first thing in the morning. Now let’s go. There’s a Chinese restaurant a couple blocks over that you need to try anyway. My treat.”
> 
> In which Steve's stove catches fire, so Bucky takes Steve on a date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's real short because I did that thing again where I wrote a chapter and then realized there needed to be a little something in between. So, the next chapter will be up as soon as I do another quick pass on it for spelling and grammar. This one's on the short side, and pretty fluffy. Hope you like it!

Bucky’s sitting on Steve’s couch when he hears the blond shout behind him. He whips his head around to see Steve jumping back from the stove. One of the burners is flaming merrily, engulfing the stir fry Steve was making for dinner.

“Shit,” Steve cries. “Shit, shit, shit, where’s fire extinguisher?”

“Inside the closet, to your left,” Bucky shouts leaping over the back of the couch. “Relax, I got it.”

Bucky swings the door open, pulls the extinguisher from its hook, and douses the range.

“Turn off the burners, quick,” Bucky instructs Steve, who does so. “Get the pan into the sink.”

Bucky quickly locates the plug for the range and pulls it before anything catastrophic happens.

“Thank you,” Steve’s shoulders slump as his body relaxes. “I’m glad you were here because I wouldn’t have known what to do.”

“Well, you do now,” Bucky grins. “C’mon. We’re going out.”

“You can’t fix it?” Steve’s puzzled brow makes Bucky laugh.  
  
“I’m not an electrician, Steve,” he chuckles. “I’d be liable to set the whole building on fire if I tried to fix your stove. I know a guy, I’ll give him a call first thing in the morning. Now let’s go. There’s a Chinese restaurant a couple blocks over that you need to try anyway. My treat.”

 

* * *

 

Steve feels a thrill of excitement as he and Bucky walk through the streets hand in hand. He wasn’t expecting Bucky to link their fingers as they strolled, but he’s not complaining.

They’ve only been seeing each other for about two weeks, and this is the first real date they’ve been on. It is, Steve thinks as they split General Tso’s chicken, beef and broccoli and Moo Shu pork, pretty much perfect.

They chat about their favorite movies and TV shows, the bands they’d pay big bucks to see in concert and the books that they feel shaped their lives. They find that they both love Disney movies. They’ve also both got a secret passion for cheesy romantic comedies. Steve likes The Beatles, while Bucky prefers The Rolling Stones, but Steve figures that’s something he can live with. They’ve read all the Harry Potter books, and exhibit what some people might find is an absurd amount of pride in their respective houses. Steve is a Hufflepuff. Bucky’s a Slytherin.

They head to a bar a few doors down after dinner, and keep talking over a couple of beers. Steve is amazed that the chemistry between them carries so seamlessly from the bedroom to everyday activities. Bucky is smart and kind, and his wit is razor sharp. Steve knows only a few people who have been able to make him laugh until his sides hurt the way Bucky’s been doing all night.

Bucky’s arm is slung around Steve’s waist as they walk home, and Steve swats him playfully each time his hand dips lower. They reach Steve’s door and Bucky kisses him, slow and deep, one hand cupping Steve’s cheek, the other rubbing the small of his back.

“You wanna come up for a cup of coffee?” Steve asks, and Bucky chuckles.

“I wanna come up,” the brunet smirks. “But not for coffee.”

Steve takes Bucky by the hand and leads him up the short set of stairs to his door. Bucky’s arms are wrapped around him, and the brunet is kissing and nipping his neck as Steve fumbles to get the key into the lock.

“S’matter, Rogers,” Bucky croons. “Am I distractin’ you?”

Steve manages to get the key in the lock and turns it. The door swings forward, and Bucky’s whirling him around, kissing him fiercely as they stumble into the apartment. It takes them a few minutes to get to Steve’s bedroom, kissing and leaving a trail of clothes like breadcrumbs into Steve's bedroom.

 

* * *

 

Steve’s chest heaves with each breath as Bucky thrusts into him, and he savors the feeling of fullness.

“Fuck, Steve,” Bucky groans, and Steve moans at the sound of the other man’s wrecked voice. “So damn tight. God, you’re so _good_.”

“Buck,” Steve gasps. “Harder. _Please_.”

“If you insist,” Bucky growls, picking up his pace, angling his hips to hit Steve’s prostate with every thrust. Steve can’t help the sounds he’s making. He knows he’s incoherent, whimpering and begging as Bucky takes him apart with his cock, wrapping a hand around Steve, but he really doesn’t care right now.

“ _Please,_ ” Steve moans. “Bucky, please, wanna come. Need to come.”

“Shhh, shh, Steve, I got ya,” Bucky whispers. “So fuckin’ beautiful.”

Bucky slams into Steve, and Steve matches him, bucking his hips to meet every thrust. Bucky twists his wrist as he pumps Steve’s cock, and _oh god, that’s it._ Steve’s back arches as he comes on a scream.

“Fuck, Steve” Bucky gasps. “Oh, fuck, oh god.”

Steve feels Bucky’s hips stutter and then the brunet is groaning his release.

Bucky pulls out, grabs some tissues and wipes them both clean. He flops down beside Steve and he pulls the brunet closer, nuzzling his hair. Bucky chuckles softly.

“Tickles, Stevie,” Bucky whispers, and Steve’s heart speeds up at the nickname.

“Stevie, huh?” Steve grins as Bucky smirks up at him.

“Got a problem with it, punk?” Bucky challenges, poking Steve in the side.

Steve laughs. “No, I don’t have a problem with it, jerk.”

 

* * *

 

Bucky calls his electrician friend the next day, and hangs around while the guy takes a look at the stove.

“You’re lucky this thing didn’t go up like a rocket,” Tim Dugan says, wiping his brow.

“Just lucky Bucky was here to put the fire out before it got out of hand,” Steve smiles at Bucky and the brunet’s heart does backflips because nobody’s ever really looked at him the way Steve does.

“Yeah, well, Barnes has proved useful once or twice,” Dugan laughs.

“Thanks so much, Dum Dum,” Bucky deadpans. “Remind me why I do you the favor of calling you when we have electrical issues here?”

“Because I’m the best,” Dugan grins, and Steve laughs as Bucky rolls his eyes.

“Steve why don’t you and I grab a coffee or something and allow Mr. Dugan to fix this stove without belittling me in front of you.”

 

* * *

 

They spend the day wandering the neighborhood, stopping in at the local shops, popping into restaurants for an appetizer and a drink every couple hours.

“Bucky,” Steve complains as Bucky whips out his credit card at every stop along the way. “You don’t have to pay for everything, you know. I have money.”

“I’m wooing you, Stevie,” Bucky smirks. “Deal with it.”

They stop for dinner at an Italian place as the sun begins to fade from the sky, and Steve insists on treating this time since Bucky paid for dinner the night before.

Bucky is _adorable_ when he pouts and complains that Steve won’t let Bucky spoil him.

Dugan texts Bucky as they’re walking home, and Steve smiles as the brunet reports that the stove is in working order again. They head back to Steve’s, full and sleepy.

The two of them curl up together on Steve’s couch and watch a Harry Potter marathon for a couple of hours on TV, dozing off hours after the sky has grown dark. Bucky wraps his arms around Steve, and the blond reflects on the fact that he’s never felt more comfortable with anybody than he has with Bucky. He falls asleep with a smile on his face.

Steve wakes up to Bucky kissing him gently the next morning, the older man’s hand cupping him through his boxers, and man, he could get used to this.

He really, _really_ could.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	3. The Shower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You know, you coulda called my cell instead of the maintenance line,” Bucky calls out about an hour later as he hears Steve approaching the bathroom door. “You have the number, might as well take advantage of that.”
> 
> Steve’s leaning against the doorframe, dressed in a shirt the stretches across his incredibly broad chest in a way that Bucky thinks is obscene and loose sweatpants. 
> 
> “I wasn’t sure that’d be a good idea, y’know?” Steve says. “I don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea.”
> 
> Bucky feels his body tense, fingers curling tight around the wrench in his right hand. 
> 
> “Wrong idea about what, Steve?” his voice is low and calm, but his insides are roiling because maybe Steve’s not as different as he thought. “Don’t want anybody to know you’re fucking the maintenance man?”
> 
> In which there is a misunderstanding, but Steve figures out how to get through to Bucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little bit of angst here, quite a bit of smut. Hope you enjoy it!

Steve’s in the middle of lathering up his short blond hair with some shampoo when the shower stops running one morning in early June.

It makes a choked, rusty sound, and then the water simply stops flowing.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” he growls up at the shower head, leaning against the cool tiles. He tries desperately to get the water to come back, just for a moment, just so he can rinse the shampoo out of his hair before calling the maintenance number.

It’s been about a month since he and Bucky started hooking up? Dating? Whatever. He’s still a little nervous as he leaves the message, hoping that if anyone besides Bucky hears it, nothing in his voice will give him away. He has no idea if Bucky’d get in trouble for fooling around with a tenant, and he’d rather not have to find out.  
  
He speaks into the phone, hangs up and trudges into the kitchen. The sink still works (thank _God_ for small favors), so he can rinse the shampoo out after all.

 

* * *

 

Bucky rolls into work at 8 a.m. and groans at the blinking red light on the phone. It’s far too early to deal with a tenant’s problem right now; he hasn’t even had a cup of coffee yet, for fuck’s sake.

He sits down and picks up the receiver, dials in the access code, and is pleasantly surprised to hear Steve’s deep voice on the other end.

“Good morning, this is Steve Rogers in Unit 129. My, uh, shower stopped working. If someone could come take a look at it as soon as possible, that’d be great. Thank you.”

Bucky picks up his toolbox, and heads out immediately. He’s sure Steve will offer him coffee.

Bucky crosses the lawn that divides the maintenance office from the actual apartments, whistling to himself, a small smile on his face. He’s not sure why Steve didn’t just call him, but whatever. Starting the day with the blond isn’t something Bucky’s going to complain about.

His jaw just about hits the floor when Steve answers the door with a towel still wrapped around his waist.

“Oh thank god,” Steve grins. “I don’t know what it is with me and the plumbing in this place, but I’m glad you’re here to fix it.

Bucky can’t even form words. He’s seen Steve naked quite a few times now, but the sight of this man shirtless and still damp leaves him speechless. Bucky watches a stray water droplet roll down Steve’s chest and unconsciously licks his lips.

“Buck?” Steve questions, brow furrowed in concern.

Before Bucky has any time to think about it, he’s striding into the apartment, kicking the door closed and then rounding and crowding Steve against it, kissing him fiercely.

 

* * *

 

Steve’s not prepared for Bucky’s onslaught, but he can’t say he’s disappointed by it. Bucky’s hands are all over him, leaving trails of heat in their wake. Bucky’s barely even gotten started and Steve is on fire, cock hardening rapidly.

“Buck,” he gasps as the brunet pulls back and begins kissing and sucking along Steve’s neck. “The shower, I-”

“The shower can wait,” Bucky growls. “Want you.”

“ _Yes_ ,” Steve sighs as Bucky pulls the towel from his waist and wraps deft fingers around his cock, stroking quickly. “God, _please don’t stop._ ”

“C’mon,” Bucky kisses him quickly. “Bed.”

“You can’t just fuck me here?” Steve keens, hips bucking as Bucky keeps stroking.

“That what you want, Steve?” Bucky’s breath ghosts across his ear, making Steve shiver. “Want me to turn you around and fuck you against this door?”

“ _Please,_ ” Steve moans as Bucky increase the speed of his strokes. “Need you.”

“Wait here,” Bucky smiles, kissing Steve gently. Steve watches Bucky leave the room, tempted to follow him. He sighs with relief when Bucky comes back a moment later, lube and condom in hand.

Bucky places the necessities on the table by the door and the drops to his knees, swallowing Steve down in one go.

“Nggh, Bucky,” Steve whines as the brunet sucks his cock. Bucky takes his time, slowly but surely bringing Steve closer to climax as he lavishes attention on his shaft. Steve tangles his hands in Bucky’s hair, tugging lightly and the brunet moans around him.

“ _Shit_ ,” Steve cries out. “Oh, god, Buck, _please_.”

Bucky pulls away from Steve’s cock, a wicked smirk gracing his sharp features.

“Turn around,” Bucky commands. Steve complies, and can’t bite back a moan when he feels Bucky’s tongue against him. Steve’s knees are shaking as Bucky eats him out, soft curses and groans spilling from his lips as Bucky brings him closer to the edge. Steve still can’t get over the fact that Bucky wants to _do_ this to him and wonders what it would be like to have Bucky like this, Steve’s tongue slowly opening him.

Steve shudders at the thought as Bucky adds a finger, curling the digit in tandem with his skilled tongue.

“Not that I don’t love this,” Steve gasps. “But I’m gonna come before you fuck me if you keep this up.”

“Wouldn’t want that, now would we?” Bucky’s voice is low and gravelly, and Steve can’t quite believe a guy as experienced and seductive as Bucky wants to keep fucking vanilla Steve Rogers, but he’s not complaining as Bucky slides two lubed fingers inside of him, scissoring gently.

“Not made of glass, Buck,” Steve groans after what feels like an eternity of careful preparation. “Please just fuck me.”

“Whatever you want, gorgeous,” Bucky chuckles darkly, and Steve can hear the sound of Bucky’s zipper sliding downward. Bucky bends Steve slightly, then angles his hips so that he’s lined up with Steve’s entrance. Bucky pushes in slowly, and Steve really might die if they don’t speed this up a bit.

“Bucky, _please_ ,” he moans. “Need it hard _now._ ”

“Shh, Steve,” Bucky’s lips are working their way along Steve’s ear, biting the lobe gently. Then Bucky’s pulling back and slamming _hard_ into Steve. Steve worries his lip to keep from crying out and disturbing his neighbors, drawing blood. He then bites down on a fist to keep his screams muted as Bucky pounds into him, ruthless in his quest for Steve’s orgasm.

“You getting close, Stevie?” Bucky’s voice is husky in his ear, and Steve is trembling because he’s right on the edge. “You gonna come for me, baby?”

Steve lets out a strangled sound that’s something between a growl and a moan and Bucky wraps a hand around his cock, pumping in time with each thrust. Moments later, he’s spilling over Bucky’s hand, coating the door in his own seed. He feels Bucky’s hips stutter, and the brunet groans as he orgasms.

 

* * *

 

Bucky guides Steve to a seated position beside him, their backs against the door, their chests heaving. The smile on Steve’s face when he looks at Bucky makes the older man’s heart beat a little faster, and god, he hopes Steve always looks at him like this.

“Well, good morning to you too,” Steve gasps and Bucky can’t stop the deep belly laugh that erupts from him. Steve is still grinning at him as he calms down.

“Sorry, I,” Bucky chuckles. “You were a little too much to handle in just that towel, Rogers.”

“Well, now I know what to do if I want you to fuck me as soon as you walk through the door,” Steve smiles and leans forward to kiss Bucky, gently cupping the back of the brunet’s head. Bucky’s heart soars at this. Steve is so good and so gentle and _so_ not what Bucky usually gets. He already feels strongly enough about the blond that it kind of scares him, and he prays that Steve is different because he certainly _seems_ different.

Bucky heaves himself up, gets himself together, and then offers Steve a hand up.

“Guess I oughta fix that shower now so that you can get cleaned up for work,” Bucky smiles. “Might wanna call and say you’ll be late.”

“Oh, I work from home,” Steve grins. “So take your time.”

“Right, right,” Bucky replies. “You know, I don’t really know what you do for a living. I mean, I know you’re an artist, but that can mean a million different things.”

“I draw for comics and kids’ books mostly, but I do commissioned work here and there,” Steve says. “The occasional gallery show. I’ve gotten really lucky with connections who like my work.”

“Will you show me?” Bucky asks because there’s nothing more he wants to do than spend hours pouring over what’s sure to beautiful work because Steve is a beautiful soul.

“Sure, Buck,” Steve laughs. “Soon as you fix my shower.”

 

* * *

 

“You know, you coulda called my cell instead of the maintenance line,” Bucky calls out about an hour later as he hears Steve approaching the bathroom door. “You have the number, might as well take advantage of that.”

Steve’s leaning against the doorframe, dressed in a shirt the stretches across his incredibly broad chest in a way that Bucky thinks is _obscene_ and loose sweatpants.

“I wasn’t sure that’d be a good idea, y’know?” Steve says. “I don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea.”

Bucky feels his body tense, fingers curling tight around the wrench in his right hand.

“Wrong idea about what, Steve?” his voice is low and calm, but his insides are roiling because maybe Steve’s not as different as he thought. “Don’t want anybody to know you’re fucking the maintenance man?”

Steve’s mouth opens and closes, but no words are coming out. His eyes are wide and panicked and holy shit, Bucky can’t believe he let himself believe Steve might actually like _him_.

“That it, Rogers?” Bucky continues, anger coming to a head. “Ashamed to be fucking the help? You get off slumming it for a bit and then bail?”

“Buck, that’s not-” Steve begins, but Bucky’s shaking he’s so upset, and he can’t bring himself to let Steve explain.

“Shower’s fixed.” Bucky’s voice is tight, his body coiled like a cat about to pounce. “You have any more problems, call the maintenance line.”

“Buck, _wait!_ ” Steve calls out, but Bucky’s already out the front door, slamming it behind him.

 

* * *

 

Steve sinks slowly to the ground, willing himself not to cry.

“What the fuck?” He groans, miserable. He was just so surprised that Bucky thought that Steve being ashamed of him was even a possibility that he didn’t have time to formulate a response. Words have always been tough for Steve -  he’s better at getting his point across with his art, with pencil to paper.

He wishes Bucky hadn’t walked out of here like that because all Steve wants is to pull him close and tell him he’s a lot more than a maintenance man and that he deserves the world. There must be some way to let Bucky know that.

He gets up and wanders into the living room and kitchen area, eyes lighting on the paper and pencils scattered on the dining table.

Maybe there _is_ a way to reach Bucky after all.

 

* * *

 

Bucky keys open the mailbox outside his office two days after he lost it with Steve. He’s still smarting over it, but he desperately wants to talk to Steve, wants the blond to tell him he’s being ridiculous. That he _does_ want Bucky for real. He’s afraid he’ll just get further confirmation that he was just a good lay and nothing more.

He flips through the envelopes, most of them junk. One catches his eye - a manilla envelope with his name scrawled on it in a hand he doesn’t recognize. Bucky places the other mail on the desk and carefully tears open the envelope.

He’s glad he’s alone here because he can’t stop the gasp that issues from his mouth.

It’s a pencil sketch. Of Bucky. And it’s _incredible_.

Steve’s drawn him from the waist up, and the Bucky on this piece of paper looks confident and strong and perfect. Even the puckered scar tissue where Bucky’s arm meets his shoulder is rendered beautiful by Steve’s skillful hand. In the left hand corner of the page are the words:

I’m sorry. Please come talk to me.  
_Yours,  
_ Steve

 **_His_ ** **.**

 

* * *

 

Steve gets one of the security guards to drop his drawing in the maintenance mailbox the night after the fight. By 3 o’clock the next day Steve thinks maybe this plan isn’t going to work after all, that maybe he poured his feelings about Bucky onto that page for naught. If Bucky’s made up his mind that Steve is just using him, there might not be a way to change it.

Steve’s despondency turns to hope when there’s a knock on the door around 6. Bucky is there, and for the first time since Steve’s known him, the brunet looks unsure of himself.

“I would have come sooner, but it was a really busy day” Bucky says, eyes not quite meeting Steve’s. “Can I come in?”

Steve motions wordlessly, afraid that if he says anything Bucky might turn tail. Bucky sinks into Steve’s couch, patting the cushion next to him, eyes pleading. Steve sits.

“So, first, I want to apologize,” Bucky says, his voice soft and a little strained. “I should have given you a chance to respond before I slammed my way out of here. I just,” Bucky pauses. “I guess I thought you were kind of too good to be true as it was, and that there was no way you actually liked me as much as I like you. I’m sorry.”

“You should have let me answer you,” Steve replies. “Then I could have told you I feel the same way about you wanting me.”

Bucky’s eyes widen in shock. “What would make you think that, Steve? You’re so good, and-”

“So are you!” Steve exclaims. “So you’re a maintenance man, so what? It’s a good job, and you’re good at it. I don’t care what you do for work- you’re smart and funny and so handsome I can hardly stand it sometimes. You make me feel,” Steve pauses. “You make me feel really _alive_ , you know? Nobody’s ever made me feel like that before.”

“Steve,” Bucky breathes. “You are so far out of my league it’s not even funny. Guys like you, they don’t end up with guys like me. Not long term.”

“Bucky,” Steve grazes his knuckles along Bucky’s jaw, then cups his face in both hands. “I have no plans to bail on you, okay? I _really_ like you. I know we haven’t been seeing each other for long, but you’re already pretty damn important to me. So, maybe let me decide if I’m out of your league, all right? And maybe consider that it feels to me like you’re way out of mine.”

“You’re too good for me,” Bucky sighs, and then Steve’s leaning forward, silencing Bucky with a slow, deep kiss.

 

* * *

 

They talk for a long time that night, telling each other the important stuff they don’t know yet. Steve tells Bucky about losing his parents, one after the other, and almost dying from pneumonia himself when he was about 13.

“I’ll dig up the pictures one of these days because most people don’t believe it until they see them,” Steve grins. “But I used to be pretty sickly. Skinny little asthmatic who couldn’t shut his mouth to save his life. I got my ass handed to me on a weekly basis.”

“When’d that change?” Bucky asks.

“Couple new drugs made it to market once I got into high school,” Steve explains. “Helped with the asthma, the iron deficiency, all that. I got lucky, got placed with a good foster family- the Starks - who eventually adopted me, and they made sure I got the care I needed. Howard and Maria passed away a couple years ago, but Tony, their son, he’s still around. You’ll meet him one day if you want.”

“I’d like that,” Bucky smiles.

Bucky tells Steve about the accident that severely impaired his left arm when he was eighteen.

“I was all set to join the army, fight for my country,” Bucky says. “Maybe earn a degree in the process. A friend of mine and I were driving back from a movie and a drunk driver hit my side of the car dead on. I was lucky to be alive, lucky not to lose the arm, but I was so _angry_. Drank too much. Got into a lot of fights. Got arrested a few times.”

Steve’s gently running a hand back and forth across Bucky’s back, and it’s soothing enough that Bucky plunges ahead with the story.

“One night about five years ago I picked a fight with the wrong guy. Almost got myself killed. Clint, the guy who owns this complex, is a friend of mine. Came to see me in the hospital. Tore me a new one, really, is what he did. Told me I needed to clean my act up, and if I thought I could manage that, he might have a job for me. I’ve been doing this ever since.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that alone,” Steve says, and leans forward to kiss Bucky. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Thank you for listening,” Bucky smiles, feeling a hundred pounds lighter than he did this morning.

Steve glances at the clock, registering how late it is.

“I should go to sleep,” he whispers against Bucky’s lips. “Stay with me?”

“Yeah,” Bucky breathes between kisses. “Yeah, I can stay.”

 

* * *

 

They’re curled in bed, exchanging lazy kisses and languid touches, and Steve can feel arousal curling low in his abdomen. It’s like hot coals, ready to burst into flames with the right touch.

“Steve,” Bucky whispers between kisses. “Will you- will you take me?”

Steve’s eyes widen because Bucky’s always been the one in control in these situations. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Bucky replies, kissing Steve. “ _Please, Steve._ ”

“Yeah, Buck,” Steve pulls his t-shirt off, then Bucky’s. He slides each of them out of their boxers and pulls Bucky close. “I got you.”

They take their time exploring each other, delighting in every gasp and moan they can draw from the other. Steve stretches Bucky open slowly, drinking in his shivers and pleas as he finger-fucks the brunet. He leans down to press a gentle kiss to Bucky’s lips as he slides into him with a sigh.

They’ve fucked quite a few times, but this is something different, something heavier. Each shudder, each shaky exhale drips with significance as the men move together, thrusting in slow tandem. It is quieter, gentler, but their climaxes are no less powerful when they come together after this tender coupling.

Steve pulls out and cleans them up. Bucky curls into his side, and Steve wraps a protective arm around him, kissing his forehead. They don’t say a word.

They don’t really need to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	4. The Air Conditioner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “C’mon,” Bucky purrs, hands running down Steve’s sides, reaching around to grasp his ass, and Steve exhales a shaky laugh. “You’re already sweaty, and I have a trick for sex on especially hot days.”
> 
> “Oh, yeah,” Steve’s voice has dropped an octave or so, and he savors the way Bucky’s eyes darken at the sound of it. “What’s that?” 
> 
> “Go undress and lie down on the bed,” Bucky breathes between kisses. “And I’ll show you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is legit just smut and Bucky doing a phenomenal job (I think) of satisfying his boyfriend. Hope you enjoy!

“Bucky,” Steve whines into the phone, and the brunet has to stifle a laugh at the sound of it. “Help me, please.”

“What’sa matter, cutie?” Bucky chuckles, leaning back in his chair and propping his feet up on the desk in the maintenance office on a Sunday afternoon in July.

“The air conditioner,” Steve laments. “It just. It just stopped working, and I’m _dying_ , Buck.”

Bucky has to set the phone down for a minute he’s laughing so hard.

“Sorry,”  he wheezes as he picks his cell back up. “I’m sorry, but you’re just so adorable when you’re being melodramatic.”

“Glad I could provide some amusement to your day, Barnes,” Steve deadpans. “Now get your ass over here and fix my A/C. _Please_.”

“See you in a few,” Bucky grins as he hangs up, then rises from his chair. He grabs his toolbox and heads out the door into the heavy summer air, wondering just how much clothing Steve will have removed because of the heat in his apartment.

 

* * *

   
Steve huffs out a laugh when Bucky lets himself into the apartment and makes a beeline for him, kissing him passionately by way of hello.

“Easy, tiger,” Steve chuckles, running his fingers through Bucky’s soft, dark hair. “You have an A/C unit to fix.”

“C’mon,” Bucky purrs, hands sliding down Steve’s sides, reaching around to grasp his ass, and Steve exhales a shaky laugh. “You’re already sweaty, and I have a trick for sex on especially hot days.”

“Oh, yeah,” Steve’s voice has dropped an octave or so, and he savors the way Bucky’s eyes darken at the sound of it. “What’s that?”

“Go undress and lie down on the bed,” Bucky breathes between kisses. “And I’ll show you.”  
  
He doesn’t need to tell Steve twice.

 

* * *

  
“You got any scarves or ties or anything?” Bucky asks, and Steve pulls himself up into a sitting position. His rests his elbows on his knees, blue eyes following Bucky as he paces back and forth with a bowl in hand. Steve wonders what’s in it, but knows if he asks Bucky will just smirk at him and tell him that’s he’ll see in a minute.

“Scarves?” he questions, brow furrowed in confusion. “What the hell do you need a scarf for? Or a tie?”

Bucky smirks at Steve as he stands by Steve’s bureau. “This is better when you’re tied up and blindfolded.” Bucky’s voice is low and seductive like warm honey in a cup of spicy chai tea, and Steve shivers a little at the sound of it.

_Fuck._

“Well, in that case, the ties are in the top left drawer, and I think there might actually be a sleep mask in there that somebody got for me. I never use it.”

Bucky rummages around and finds what he needs. He walks over, two ties in hand, along with the sleep mask and one of Steve’s larger plastic bowls filled with ice. Bucky grins as he secures the ties around Steve’s wrists and then fastens them to the bedposts. Steve shivers as Bucky runs his hands along the sensitive underside of his arms. Bucky’s mouth follows the trails his fingers blazed, and he lingers, sucking gently at the crease where the arms bends. The brunet’s predatory smile widens as he pulls back, and Steve inhales sharply at the burning desire residing in those stormy eyes. Bucky undresses and then crawls into bed, hovering above Steve.

“You ready?” Bucky asks, holding up the sleep mask. Steve swallows deeply and nods, noting the way Bucky’s eyes darken even further as he follows the motion of Steve’s Adam’s apple. Then Bucky’s sliding the sleep mask over his eyes, and Steve is completely and utterly at the brunet’s mercy.  
  
He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t into that.

 

* * *

  
Bucky doesn’t reach for the ice immediately. Half the fun of blindfolding someone is surprising them, keeping them on their toes with every kiss and touch. Bucky begins by running his fingers gently up and down Steve’s torso, watching goosebumps rise on the man’s flushed skin. Bucky loves that he’s barely touching Steve and it’s affecting him so. He’s always loved responsive partners best, and Steve’s the most sensitive he’s ever come across.

Bucky leans down, letting his tongue skate across Steve’s skin, savoring the salty tang of the man’s flesh. Steve is breathing hard, and though Bucky can tell he’s trying to keep quiet, muted whimpers escape his mouth from time to time.

“Steve,” Bucky says, kissing his way across Steve’s chest. “Don’t gotta be quiet, babe. I like hearing you.”

Steve groans as Bucky takes a nipple into his mouth and bites down gently. “Oh, _fuck_.”

“That’s the plan, blondie,” Bucky teases, reaching into the bowl for an ice cube. “Be patient.”

Bucky runs the ice cube gently over Steve’s overheated flesh, following the trail of water with his lips and tongue. He circles the cube around a nipple, and Steve arches and cries out.

“Bucky,” Steve is panting and writhing below him, and _god_ , he’s beautiful. “ _Please_.”

Bucky runs the cube along Steve’s stomach, watching the muscles flutter. Steve arches toward him, and whimpers as he reaches the limits of his restraints.

Once that cube has melted, Bucky fishes another out of the bowl. He moves further down the bed, running it gently along Steve’s calves, lifting each leg to get at the back of the knee. Steve shouts when Bucky follows the ice with his mouth, sucking at the sensitive skin behind Steve’s knee.

“Guess you didn’t know you were that sensitive back there, huh?” Bucky chuckles darkly, watching the blond’s chest heave with each breath. “You really haven’t had many attentive partners have you?”

“No,” Steve groans as Bucky rolls the ice along his inner thighs. “ _Fuck_ , not like you, Buck.”

Bucky feels a swell of pride as continues his ministrations, slowly getting closer to where Steve needs him most. And when the ice cube’s melted to a suitable size, Bucky pops it into his mouth and then swallows down Steve’s cock.

“Fuck, oh _shit_ ,” Steve moans. “ _Bucky_.”  
  
Bucky moves slowly, tongue guiding the cube along Steve’s shaft with practiced ease. Steve is shaking below him, and Bucky takes a heady pleasure in being able to take apart this gorgeous man piece by piece.

 

* * *

   
Once the ice has melted, Bucky pulls back, wiping a hand across his mouth. “That good for you?”

“Hell yes,” Steve gasps out. “I’ve never had anyone do that to me before. That was incredible.”

“Good,” Bucky leans forward and kisses Steve, tongue dipping into the blond’s mouth. He savors the hint of mint on Steve’s breath as he explores, cupping Steve’s face in his hands, thumbs brushing Steve’s sharp cheekbones softly.

“Tell me what you want me to do next,” Bucky breathes as he pulls away.

“Could you,” Steve’s skin reddens further with a blush, and honestly, he’s so adorable Bucky could die. “Could you try it while rimming me? With the ice, I mean?”

“Absolutley,” Bucky breathes against Steve’s lips as arousal flashes through him. He pulls away to grab another ice cube. “Tell me if it’s uncomfortable for you, ok?”

Steve nods, and Bucky pushes his hips upward. He runs the cube across Steve’s entrance, and the buck of Steve’s hips and the way he cries out is very encouraging. He circles the puckered hole slowly, and shudder after shudder wracks the blond’s body.

“Bucky,” Steve moans. “Please. _Please.”_

Bucky moves downward, and then his tongue is following the cube in a circular motion around Steve’s entrance. The other man is all breathy moans and cries, and the sounds drive Bucky wild. His cock hangs hard between his legs, but right now it’s all about Steve’s pleasure. He works his tongue into the hole, still circling the ice as he fucks into Steve with the slick muscle.

Once that ice cube has disappeared, he pulls back, grabbing the lube from Steve’s bedside table, coating his fingers and stretching the blond.

“You want me to fuck you while you’re all tied up, Steve?” Bucky purrs, and Steve moans as the brunet crooks his fingers and finds his prostate.

“Please,” Steve whimpers, hips pistoning upward. “God, _please_.”  
  
Once Bucky’s certain he’s prepped Steve enough, he pulls back, slides on a condom and enters the blond in one swift motion.

 

* * *

   
Overstimulated might be the understatement of the century to describe how Steve is feeling right now. Between the ice, Bucky’s skilled tongue and fingers, and the deprivation of sight and the ability to touch his partner, Steve feels as though he might spontaneously combust.

Steve can feel every sensation more acutely with his vision obstructed and his hands restrained. Every one of Bucky’s thrusts is a revelation, and it’s nearly a spiritual experience as the brunet brings him closer and closer to orgasm.

Steve barely recognizes the needy sounds Bucky is teasing out of him as he slides in and out of Steve’s slick entrance. Coherent thought is impossible, and words are gone. Steve babbles nonsense, keening in the back of his throat once Bucky finds an angle that allows him to hit Steve’s prostate with every thrust, and Steve is right on the edge of oblivion.

“You almost there, Steve?” Bucky grits out, and Steve knows Bucky is getting close too, can feel the forward motion of the brunet’s slim hips grow increasingly erratic.

“Yes,” Steve manages to gasp out as he bucks his hips up to meet Bucky’s, wrapping his legs more tightly around him to pull him deeper. “ _Please_.”

Bucky speeds up, his breath coming in quick pants. “Shit, Steve, so perfect. Come with me.”

Steve’s vision whites out as a scream tears it’s way out of his throat, and it feels as though he’s floating outside of his body. When he comes down from the high, Bucky is running a damp washcloth across his stomach and thighs.

Bucky smiles as Steve’s eyes meet his and leans down to kiss him.

“I think I’d be safe in assuming that was enjoyable for you?” Bucky smirks.

Steve chuckles, pulling the brunet into another kiss. “Yeah, I think so.”

Steve’s eyelids are heavy, but he kisses Bucky for a few minutes more, running his fingers through the other man’s now-damp hair.

“Take a nap,” Bucky whispers, pulling away. “And by the time you wake up, your apartment will be nice and cool again.  
  
Steve yawns and nods, turning to his side, and curling up. He falls asleep almost instantly, so he misses it when Bucky whispers three little words for the first time as he places a gentle kiss to Steve's temple.

 

* * *

  
Steve wakes an hour or so later, shivering under a thin sheet. He smiles, though, because that means Bucky managed to get the A/C working again. On this hot July afternoon that is a beautiful thing.

There’s a scrap of paper sitting on his nightstand, and Steve picks it up, smiling as he reads Bucky’s careful block print.

_Hey gorgeous,_

_Got your air back up and running, but anytime you’d like to cool down my way, you just let me know. If you don’t have any objections, I was thinking maybe we could go out to dinner tonight. I’ll text you later._

XO,  
Buck  
  
Steve stretches as he rises from the bed, grabbing a towel and heading for the shower. He’d rather not be a sweaty mess in front of Bucky until after their date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! For those of you who haven't seen it, I have a Tumblr now where you can [go and submit requests for fics you'd like to read.](http://emphasisonem.tumblr.com/)


	5. The Refrigerator

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So, Steve,” Tony breezes once he’s done interrogating Bucky. “How’s the art career going?”
> 
> “Really, well, actually,” Steve says. “I’ve got three more books lined up to illustrate over the next year, and a gallery show in December. You both should come.”
> 
> “We wouldn’t miss it, Steve,” Pepper grins. “Would we, Tony?”
> 
> “Of course not,” Tony smiles, and Bucky finally sees some genuine emotion in the man’s dark eyes. “Proud of you, kid. Mom and dad would be too.”
> 
> Steve smiles, and it reaches his eyes this time. “Thanks, Tony.”
> 
> Of course, that’s when there’s a fairly loud popping noise sounds from the kitchen. Bucky looks back, and sees a trail of bluish smoke coming from behind Steve’s refrigerator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm fairly sure this is the last chapter for this one. I mean, who knows, more might come of it, but I feel pretty good ending it here. Hope you guys like it!

The past couple of months with Steve have been probably the happiest of Bucky’s life. He feels light in a way he hasn’t since before the accident, before all the shit he put himself through. Steve is kind and understanding, and the most beautiful person Bucky’s ever known, inside and out.

Which is why he’s nervous as hell to meet Steve’s adopted brother Tony and his wife Pepper.

“Okay, so,” Steve says one night in September as they lounge on the couch in Steve’s apartment. “Tony and Pepper are gonna be in town two weeks from now, and they really, _really_ want to meet you.”

“Okay,” Bucky replies. “Do you want me to meet them?”

“I do,” Steve smiles, a little sadly. “Tony and I have a complicated relationship. It was kind of awful when we were younger, but we’ve been rebuilding it, you know? Trying to understand each other, be there for each other. We’re like oil and water a lot of the time, but we love each other. And Pepper’s been a blessing; she’s mellowed him quite a bit.”

“You just tell me when to be here, and I’m in,” Bucky grins, kissing his _boyfriend_ , and god, he still can’t get over the fact that Steve wants him. It’s almost too good to be true.

 

* * *

 

Bucky’s a little thrown by Tony when they first meet. Steve said they were opposites, but _shit._ Tony is all flash and smooth-talking, and Bucky’s doing his best to hold an actual conversation with the guy, but it’s not easy. Tony’s funny and smart, but Bucky can’t tell if the man takes _anything_ seriously.

Pepper smiles at Tony in a slightly chagrined manner as he introduces himself to Bucky, firing rapid questions about his job, where he lives, how long he and Steve have been dating. Bucky does his best to keep up, and Tony is still smiling at him, so he guesses he’s managing well enough.

Steve keeps a sedate smile plastered to his face, but Bucky can see the irritation in his eyes. He grins at Steve to let him know that he’s okay, that this is okay. Bucky’s dealt with far worse in his life than the likes of Tony Stark.

“So, Steve,” Tony breezes once he’s done interrogating Bucky. “How’s the art career going?”

“Really, well, actually,” Steve says. “I’ve got three more books lined up to illustrate over the next year, and a gallery show in December. You both should come.”

“We wouldn’t miss it, Steve,”  Pepper grins. “Would we, Tony?”

“Of course not,” Tony smiles, and Bucky finally sees some genuine emotion in the man’s dark eyes. “Proud of you, kid. Mom and dad would be too.”

Steve smiles, and it reaches his eyes this time. “Thanks, Tony.”

Of course, that’s when there’s a fairly loud popping noise sounds from the kitchen. Bucky looks back, and sees a trail of bluish smoke coming from behind Steve’s refrigerator.

“Ah, shit,” Steve sighs. “I just went grocery shopping.”

“Relax,” Bucky grins. “I have spare tools here. Why don’t you guys run over to the store and grab some ice to keep the food and stuff cold while I get to work?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Pepper smiles.

“Actually,” Tony says. “I could stay back and help. I’m pretty handy.”

“A fridge is not the same as your stuff Tony,” Steve smiles, rolling his eyes.

“Please,” Tony grins. “The day I can’t figure out how to fix something is the day you all can lower me into a grave.”

“Buck, you all right with that?” Steve asks, giving Bucky the opportunity to politely decline Tony’s offer to help. While Bucky’s not sure that an engineer is really going to be much help with a basic household appliance, he wants to make a good impression. So he accepts Tony’s presence with a shrug and a smile.

 

* * *

 

“Can you hand me that wrench there?” Bucky asks once they’ve moved the fridge away from the wall.

“Sure,” Tony smiles and hands it over. Bucky’s sort of surprised that Tony has relegated himself to assistant. He gets the impression that Tony tends to barrel forward in the lead whenever possible.  Bucky begins to see why Tony elected to stay behind, though, when he begins speaking again.

“So what’d Steve tell you about me?” the older man asks, sitting down beside Bucky on the kitchen floor.

“Uh,” Bucky starts. “Well, that you’re his adopted brother. That you’re an engineer and well off. That you two have had a complicated relationship.”

Tony chuckles, a little sadly Bucky thinks. “That’s the understatement of the century.”

“My parents adopted Steve when he was 14 and I was 19,” Tony begins. “I was at MIT and when I came home over break, I had a brother. I wasn’t used to sharing anything, and Steve was kind of like the perfect, well-behaved kid my parents were hoping for when they had me. My dad was especially fond of him. Had a tendency to rub my nose in it.”

“You felt replaced?” Bucky asks gently.

“Kind of, yeah,” Tony says. “It was dumb, but I wasn’t very mature then. I’m still not very mature. And I took it out on Steve instead of my parents. I was, uh, I was pretty cruel. I never hurt him, not physically, but some of the stuff I said. Well, let’s just say I’m not proud of myself.”

Bucky nods, and Tony continues.

“Then my parents passed away when I was 25 and Steve was 19,” Tony says, and Bucky’s surprised to see tears in Tony’s eyes. “And it was like a switch flipped somewhere inside me, you know? Steve was all I had in terms of family. He wasn’t really speaking to me at the time, but I managed to convince him to give me a second chance. And you know Steve, always sees the best in people. So he did.”

“It’s good,” Bucky says. “It’s good that you’re trying to fix things. That you have each other.”

“It is,” Tony replies. “And it’s good that he has you. I know I come on strong. I talk way too much. But from what he’s told me, and from what I can see today, you’re a good guy who really cares about Steve, and I appreciate you putting up with me for his sake.”

“Thanks,” Bucky grins. “Glad I meet the standards.”

Tony barks out a laugh and smiles fondly at Bucky. “He would pick a sassy little shit to date. Just like him. I like it.”

 

* * *

 

Steve and Pepper return, and the four of them go back to chatting, the atmosphere much clamer now that Tony’s had a chance to speak with Bucky. It’s easier to relax now, Bucky thinks, now that he knows Tony a little better, knows he’s not all flash and no substance. Steve and Tony will still fight from time to time; their personalities make it inevitable. But Bucky thinks he lucked out finding his way into their little family unit.

Tony takes them out to the nicest restaurant in the neighborhood, and laughs when Steve gets grumpy about not being able to pick up part of the tab.

“You’re always the one coming up to see me,” Tony grins. “I’ve been bad about that, and this is how I’m choosing to make up for that. Let me pay for dinner without complaint for once.”

Steve scowls, but there’s a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, and Bucky can’t help but laugh at the expression.

Steve kicks him under the table, smirking, and Bucky just laughs harder.

 

* * *

 

Tony and Pepper drop them off at Steve’s, and they make plans to meet up for lunch and a stroll through town tomorrow. Bucky’s grinning like a dope as Tony and Pepper each give him warm hugs goodbye.

“I think they like me,” he smiles at Steve, who chuckles.

“Are you kidding?” Steve grins. “They _loved_ you. What’d you think of them? Was Tony all right while I was gone?”

“They’re great Steve,” Bucky replies. “And Tony was fine. We actually had a really nice talk. I’m glad I’m getting to know your family.”

The smile on Steve’s face as he pulls Bucky into a kiss is blinding, and Bucky’s heart is soaring because Steve is happy, and that’s all he wants. Just to make Steve happy.

As they lie curled together in bed, sweaty and sated after their lovemaking, Bucky smiles to himself as he watches Steve drift off to sleep. Because this is it for him and he knows it.

“Hey,” Bucky nudges Steve who groans sleepily.

“Whaddya want?” Steve grumbles. “Tryna sleep.”

“I just wanted to tell you something,” Bucky grins as Steve glares at him. “I love you.”

Steve’s eyes soften, and his lips part slightly.

“Yeah?” he asks, smiling softly, curling into Bucky.

“Yeah,” Bucky whispers, closing the distance between the two of them, coaxing a happy sigh from Steve as they kiss.

“I love you too,” Steve breathes as Bucky pulls away. “Always.”

_Always._

Bucky thinks that sounds perfect.    

 

_**Fin.** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you so much for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what's going to happen next, and I probably won't have a lot of time to write over the next couple of days, so apologies in advance, friends. Thanks for reading!


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